


The Class "A" Team

by kjstark



Series: Football RPF one-shots [3]
Category: Football RPF, National Football League RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Brazil NT is one big yellow family, Brazil National Team, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-13 18:12:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2160201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjstark/pseuds/kjstark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High School AU because there are never enough of those.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I wanna say a lot of things first. I grew up with a Dunga-fan father so I have nothing against Dunga personally, but his statements this last weeks have been so ugh lately that I couldn't help it, he had to be the bad guy (because you always need a bad guy). 
> 
> I also have nothing against Bruna Marquezine and if you do, that's okay for you. However, I won't put her as the bad girl here, she's just, you know, stuck between something she doesn't even realize. But she won't be your basic bitch character because I hate villianizing female charecters without reason. Same goes for Ludy Emboaba, Oscar's gorgeous and amazing wife, whom I have nothing agains. Basically I'm just gonna borrow your babes and put them with each other, hope you don't mind, girls! :P 
> 
> Second, this was a prompt I took out of the Neyscar tag on Tumblr and again, I found myself unable to say 'No' to it. I'm planing a 5 chapters thing, and probably all will be 1K words of lenght, which is well, bad, but it's better than nothing. Which brings me to the last a thrid thing: I'm not Brazilian nor from the US, so my way of writing the schooling system might sound off to some of you. Hopefully, all the High School AU's I've read will help a little with this but if they don't, I apologize.
> 
> English is not my first language. I'm currently trying to learn Portuguese again (I knew a little when I was seven but never spoke it again and now I've forgotten how) so I might add some bits here and there that I know. 
> 
> That being said, ALL HAIL NEYSCAR!

“Hey, Ney!” -

“Bom dia, Neymar!”-

“How are you man?”-

Neymar waved them all as he ran across the halls, it was the third time this month he got late to Mr. Dunga’s classes, and the man had already a misguided hate towards him so Neymar didn’t really need to give him more reasons. He opened the door slowly and silently walked in.

“Ah, Mr. da Silva, never disappointing my low expectations of you,” the teacher said, not turning from the blackboard. Across the classroom he saw Oscar rolling his eyes, and moving his backpack from the seat he always saved Neymar.

He silently sat with a sigh. “Are you starting some sort of game with him now?” Oscar whispered to him once he adjusted on his seat.

“My dad’s truck broke again, Oscar, I’m not starting anything,” he refuted. “What are we on?” he asked, opening his notebook. Oscar looked away, at the blackboard, and wrote down something on his notebook.

“Human reproduction,” he replied, writing. Neymar rose his eyebrows, grinning.

“Ah, that’s interesting,” he said, writing the date on his notebook and peeking at Oscar’s notes.

“Gay sex doesn’t count as reproduction, you know?” Oscar remarked, almost bitterly. It wasn’t news Neymar casually rathered guys over girls. He overlooked Neymar’s expression for a brief second and then back on the board.

“Hey, I have non-gay sex, too,” he said, shrugging.

“Please do tell me more about all the sex you have, Neymar,” Oscar said, annoyed.

“You need sex,” Neymar muttered to himself, not meeting Oscar’s eyes, that were glaring back at him.

He wasn’t sure when the frustration at Neymar’s over-sharing mouth started, but truth be told Oscar’s stomach did a weird thing every time his best friend started talking about his casual “dates” and “encounters”. It’s not that Neymar was a man-whore, but he hardly kept it in his pants from time to time, and after that, he hardly kept the information from Oscar – who, again, didn’t really need to know.

They were walking down the halls, right after the bell rang and they were out of that hell-class, and Neymar kept talking about his weekend, and of course, Bruna Marquezine.

“Yo’, guys,” David Luiz said loudly, hugging them from behind. Oscar smiled at him.

“Hey, Davi.”

“Hey, man. What’s with the loving?” Neymar asked, chuckling.

“Well, it’s trials day, we’re seeing new faces, you know how I am,” he replied, releasing the boys from his grip and walking in front of them, facing them as he spoke, “I enjoy the little things of life,” he informed, opening his arms widely.

“I see. So, it has nothing to do with the fact that it’s Thiago’s first day as Captain and you’ll get to stare at him for the whole day,” Neymar quirked one eyebrow and Oscar chuckled from his side.

David shrugged. “I do that every day, anyway. Today, I’m just proud of the guy, so you two keep it shut,” he asked, pointing them with his finger.

They entered the cafeteria and Neymar went to their table, while Oscar went to get food with David stepping behind his feet.

“So?” he asked at his ear. Oscar grabbed a plate and a stray and wished for the best.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, frowning both at David’s question and at the questionable food in front of him. He didn’t even bother to glare at the lunch lady, there was no point.

“Are you joining the team or what?” David asked straight, eyebrows still but smile hopeful.

“Didn’t we go through this already?” Oscar sighed, walking towards the table, where Dani and Marcelo had already started a food-fight. David stood in front of him, blocking.

“What’s so wrong with football?” he asked, almost pouting, it was a funny thing to see.

“It’s not that. I have other things to focus on,” he answered, trying to move past his friend, and neighbor.

“So, you’ll do them, too. Thiago has great grades, and he’s team captain,” he offered, raising both eyebrows. Oscar rolled his eyes.

It’s not that he thought he sucked, he just didn’t think of it as something for him—it works for Neymar, sure, Dani and David and all of them, they’re great, but what did poor skinny Oscar had to bring to the table? Awkwardness and shyness, probably.

He moved his head to one side. “I’ll think about it,” he lied. David didn’t buy it, obviously, but he dropped it. They sat silently next to each other. Marcelo and Dani were fighting over a TV show.

“Hey, what do you think it’s going on?” Neymar whispered to David’s ear, pointing with his chin at the scene across the room.

Coach Scolari was talking to Thiago, in a very light tone and looking concerned. Thiago kept gazing at Neymar and then driving his sight somewhere else, looking worried as well. There were several nods from Thiago and then a pat on the shoulder. Scolari left through the door and Thiago rubbed the back of his head, slowly walking towards them.

“You two. Shut it!” David called Marcelo and Dani, who frowned at him. “Hey, what happened?” he asked calmly at a silent Thiago.

Thiago was looking at the floor beneath him still rubbing the back of his head. “It’s—it’s you, Ney,” he said, looking at Neymar, sitting in front of him. “Dunga told Scolari you’re failing his class, and members of the school’s football team cannot have grades lower than B-,” he explained, annoyed.

Neymar swallowed. “Agh, fuck!” he yelled, dropping his drink. “I knew that guy’d find a way to screw me over,” he muttered.

“But are you failing his class or not?” Bernard asked, from the other side of the table.

“I don’t know!”

“That’s not important,” Thiago said, sitting next to Neymar. He looked at him in the eyes. “Do you think there’s a way you can raise your grades to a B-?”

“No!” he replied, frowning hard. “Thiago, this dude wants my head, there’s nothing—

“Actually, there’s a test coming next week,” Oscar interrupted. Neymar turned to him in light-speed.

“What?”

“Well, that just answered the question of why he’s failing,” Marcelo muttered, and Neymar glared at him for a second.

“Can you help Ney get his grades up before the next game in three weeks, Oscar?” Thiago asked, all commanding voice and kind heart.

“Of course,” he didn’t even hesitate. Neymar whined as he dropped his head to the table, soundly.

“Everything sucks so much.” But at least he had Oscar.


	2. You and Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neymar, completely oblivious, leaves Oscar out of breath and makes him realize something.  
> (Or, The One Where Dani Knows Better Than David Luiz, and Oscar should get new friends.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, this one's so short I'm almost crying. But for drama's sake, I had to cut it there. I'm finishing the last draft of the third chapter and that truly is longer, so don't worry!

_It's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do, nothing to lose_   
_And it's you and me and all of the people_   
_And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you_

* * *

 

 

“-And she’s playing Juliet in the school play next week. Man, Bruna talks so much, it’s funny,” Neymar babbled behind him. Oscar had been stepping harder with each walk, they’ve been walking down the streets for fifteen minutes now and Neymar hadn’t stop talking about his ‘bestest girl-friend’. Oscar had run tired of hearing once they crossed the corner that led to his neighborhood. However, Neymar didn’t notice because he made sure to ‘hmm’ and nod as if he was listening to everything he said.

It was the third time in the week Neymar came with him to study, and by ‘study’ he meant ‘play with a tiny ball while Oscar did both their homeworks’. Oscar didn’t mind helping, he’d help Bernard with Math for the whole last semester, he helped Marcelo with Chemestry, he even helped Thiago with Geography this other time, but something about Neymar careless attitude towards this, towards him, made him upset and annoyed. He shook his head while Neymar still talked about the possibility of him becoming a celebrity. Oscar turned the key and opened the front door.

“Oscar?” his mother called him from the kitchen. Oscar frowned and looked at Neymar, who was as confused. His mother wasn’t usually home this early. She stepped out of the kitchen when no one replied. “Oh, there you a—Neymar!” she squealed, putting her hands together and running to give him a tight hug. Neymar looked at Oscar above her shoulder and chuckled. Oscar replied an easy smile.

“Hello, Mrs. Emboaba,” he muttered.

“How’s Rafaella and your mother, dear?” she asked, politely. Neymar replied to all her questioning as Oscar walked up the stairs. He dropped his backpack on his bed and took his notebook and books out. On Tuesday they had both agreed that Biology wasn’t going to be enough for Neymar to raise his grades so Oscar was now helping him with almost all his classes, except for Gym, which he was acing perfectly, of course. Oscar sat in his chair and looked at his desk. There was a picture of his dad, of his oldest friend, Ludy –studying in Portugal now, of him and Bernard and David Luiz, of his cousin Lucas and him playing in the beach, and there at the back was one of him and Neymar, smile on their faces, arms wrapped around each other, summer sky and 10 and 11 jerseys. Oscar rolled his fingertips along Neymar’s happy face in the picture and sighed.

“Why don’t you want to join us?” Neymar asked, sad, behind him. Oscar startled for a second and then turned, dropping the picture to the desk as he did.

“What?”

“David said that you don’t want to join the team,” Neymar answered, walking inside like he owned the place. “We had a good time at that summer camp, remember? Just you and me, scoring everything,” he said, with a bittersweet smile, grabbing the picture frame now and looking at it. All Oscar could think was how they stopped being ‘Just you and me’ years ago.

“I got bad at it,” Oscar said, turning his chair again, giving Neymar his back.

“I find that very hard to believe,” he muttered, dropping the frame and sitting behind him in Oscar’s bed.

“It’s true. All that could happen now is you making a fool of me on the field and I’m not about letting that happen,” he tried for amusement, but Neymar said nothing, just bit his bottom lip and lowered his head. Oscar wrote the beginning of his essay on Brazilian history when the room suddenly felt heavy around him, he looked over his shoulder with the corner of his eyes and saw Neymar deeply staring at him. “What are you looking at?”

“I’m looking at you,” he simply said, serious. Oscar turned his chair to stare at him, amused. Neymar deepened his stare and Oscar settled, frowning as he smiled. Then he bursted into laughter. Neymar punched him in the knee. “You're a dickhead,” he said, smiling.

“You’re the one who’s acting weird!” he refuted, turning to his notebook again.

“Well, you’ve been acting weird for the past three weeks or so,” Neymar muttered, looking for his own things.

“How so?” Oscar wondered.

“You get annoyed every time I start talking about Bruna, and now you don’t wanna join the team, and David said you’re not going to William’s party. It’s like your pushing all of us away without reason,” he confessed, standing up to drop his books next to Oscar’s.

“That’s all lies, Ney. I’m not pushing anyone away,” Oscar said, turning the page of his book over, not bothering to look at Neymar, who was now grabbing a chair and sitting next to him.

“Then join the team,” he dared, at his ear. Oscar turned to him and realized how close he was. He lost himself on greenish eyes and didn’t noticed when his lips parted. Neymar didn’t even bother to step away, or to stop breathing and Oscar suddenly felt agitated, suffocated, with Neymar’s breath brushing his lips, his cologne drowning his nostrils. He was raising his eyebrows as if nothing was happening and Oscar felt his beating crawling up his throat. He looked at Neymar’s lips and Neymar relaxed his frown, suddenly noticing something changing.

But then the door opened.

“ _Suco_?” Oscar’s mom offered, with the easiest smile and Oscar ran to grab one, Neymar was left sitting.

She closed the door, and for the first time in ever, Neymar did his homework.

“Say hi to you mom for me, okay?” his mom told Neymar at the door. Oscar was watching from the stairs.

“Sure,” he gave her a kiss on the cheek and looked at Oscar, above him. “See you tomorrow, you big dork,” he added, joking. Oscar smiled, relaxed. And Neymar was out. Leaving Oscar staring at the closed door and not moving, wondering what the hell happened earlier.

“You okay, there, dear?” His mom asked, with concern. Oscar regained consciousness and gave her a smile before running upstairs.

* * *

 

 

-Mountain. Now. Need to talk to ya’. Tell no one, u ass.-

 

“Oscar’s texting skills are remarkable,” Thiago said, chuckling, handing David his phone.

“What’s this?” David asked his best friend and teammate, as if he held all the answers. Thiago shrugged, not knowing.

“Go and find out. And David, I think when Oscar means no one, he really means no one, so don’t tell me,” he asked, laughing. David rolled his eyes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll try. _Ciao_ ” and he ran.

-o-

“Thiago says you text like a moron,” David said, laughing, as he dropped his bicycle to the grass. In front of him, Oscar was pacing. “Wow, what’s wrong?”

Oscar turned to his friend, and sighed heavily. “I think I like Neymar, like like _like_ , like _gay-like_ ," he said, in the most dramatic way he could muster.

“Crap,” David breathed out.

“I _know_!” Oscar agreed, shouting.

“No, not that,” he narrowed his eyes, looking at the date on his phone. “I owe Dani twenty bucks now!”

Oscar desperately needed to find new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews make me write chapters faster!! :D


	3. Ten and Eleven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oscar is forced into the team by legends and Neymar realizes he's screwed.  
> (or The One Where Scolari Ships 'Neyscar' Too)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This episode is finally something I'm a little bit proud of. I brought an old, forgotten passion into this one (and I'll tag it later 'cause I don't wanna spoil anything) and I was so HAPPY, hehehe.  
> Anyway, this one's longer than the last two so YAY FOR ME AND YOU AND ALL OF US! I hope I see some nice reviews because honestly, I can't wait to hear what you guys think ;))

“I mean, I don’t even know what happened,” Oscar whined, for the third time in the last thirty minutes. “One second I was annoyed at my homework and the next one Ney was breathing down my neck and I was in fucking awe,” he shook his head, his entire body, as if scared. Down on the grass, David was texting. “You!” Oscar kicked his feet and forced David to look at him. “Are you listening to me?” Oscar narrowed his eyes. David rolled his.

“Yes, you think Neymar is cute and funny and you wanna do what bunnies do with him,” he said, smiling at last. Oscar wanted to punch him a little. “I’m texting Bernard to come over,” he commented when Oscar gave him his back, still pacing.

He turned quickly. “What?! I told you not to tell anyone,” he yelled, pained-face. David waved him off.

“You’re freaking out and pretty sure gonna dig a hole beneath you any time now with all this pacing,” he explained, pointing open-handed at Oscar’s skinny legs. “Honestly, I need back-up,” he admitted, eyes wide. “Besides, the guy’s a smurf. You can’t not trust a smurf,” he said, like it was a serious statement. Oscar dropped to the floor beside his friend.

“This is a cataclysm, a catastrophe,” Oscar said dramatically, arm on his forehead. David huffed.

“Please, you don’t really think this is bad, do you?” David said, looking over him with the corner of his eyes.

“Uh, yes,” Oscar answered, as if it was obvious. “Neymar’s my best friend, he’s so not about to like me that way and I’m not even gay,” he finished.

David sat, legs spread and took a look better at Oscar. “Okay, first: you’re a guy, Ney’s a guy, if you like him like him I don’t know how it gets any gayer than that. Second: Neymar’s your best friend, yes, and you’re his, need I remind you how many love stories have been founded on that very fact, solely? Mine included,” he rhetorically asked, raising his eyebrows. Oscar sighed. “And third, Neymar has it for you so bad that only someone stupid and blind couldn’t realize it. Those someones being you and him, both, of course,” he added, rolling his eyes some other way. Oscar chose to ignore him, too busy whining into his arm, in the dead of the night.

Bernard came, in a bicycle that seemed too large for him. “Hey, guys,” he announced. David stood and high five-d him.

“Did you bring the money?” he asked, with a smile. Bernard took a twenty out of his back pocket and handed them. “Thanks, man. I’ll pay you the sooner I can.”

“Meaning never,” Bernard replied.

“I still can’t believe you and Dani bet on me liking Neymar, by the way,” Oscar said, from the floor, glaring at David. Bernard rose his eyebrows, realizing.

“Please, we didn’t bet on you liking Neymar,” he refuted, faking as if he was insulted. “We bet on _when_ you would realize it,” he added, correcting. “And I gave you way too much time,” he said, sadly looking at Bernard’s money.

Bernard was sitting next to Oscar, quietly. “So you like Neymar?” Oscar sighed, frustrated, and he took that as a yes. “What are you going to do?”

“What do you mean what’s he gonna do?” David asked, opening his arms widely. Oscar supported himself on his elbows to look at the tall man better. “He’s gonna tell him. He’s gonna wear a pretty, thick Nike shirt, slam Ney against a wall and say ‘You, me, date, now’,” he said, showing the way Oscar’d confess himself. David’s audience was laughing by this point. “I’m serious,” he wasn’t.

David dropped to the grass with them, and breathed heavily, after they were all done laughing. “Thanks, man. I need that,” Oscar thanked, wiping tears off his eyes. It was easier to find hilarity in hypothetical situations where he told Neymar and everything worked out. In front of him, David bit his lower lip.

“I take you’re not going to tell him anything at all, are you?” he asked, almost sad, shooting glances at Bernard, who was looking down, too. Truth be told, they are well rooting for ‘Neyscar’, as they playfully started calling them. Oscar shook his head, slowly, ripping pieces of grass off the floor.

“It’ll wear off. I don’t think I need Neymar pushing me away because I have a stupid crush on him,” he said, truthfully. He was already loosing Neymar so much. To football and Bruna and everything else, he couldn’t bear any more growing apart, and him admitting he liked Neymar to Neymar was only going to do that.

Bernard remained silent, and David sighed, disappointed, but said nothing either.

 

* * *

 

 

He did the stupid thing. He did the _idiotic_ thing. And each time David smacked the back of his head, he knew he deserved it.

Because not telling Neymar had been Oscar’s plan to not get him to be away from him, and either way he himself ended up just doing that.

But it was hard, because Neymar gave him nice, warm smiles. And squeezed his knee underneath the table. And hugged him. And his heart flipped over his chest every time Neymar said his name, or rolled his tongue down his dry lips – which he did, a lot, but Oscar was suddenly realizing, suddenly too aware of things – or every time he walked across the halls, sunglasses on, backpack thrown over his shoulder, like he owned the place.

So after four slow days of painful restrictions of doing exactly what David joked he should do, he started avoiding Neymar altogether. They had Biology and History together, and both times Oscar

had skipped, claiming he had a stomach ache. Neymar texted him a lot that afternoon, and he ignored all. Had Bernard tell him he was too sick to grab the phone.

He avoided him in the halls, and he started eating lunch at the bleachers, casually watching senior’s practice.

“Hey, you okay, eating here all alone?” a senior asked, the other day. He was tall and brunette and had a beautiful smile. And look at that, Oscar was a little gay, after all.

“Yeah,” he managed to say.

“Kaka, pass the ball, c’mon!” another guy shouted at him. He waved him and turned to Oscar.

“Wanna play?” Oscar fought the urge to shake his head to the sides like a mad-man. Abort mission. Abort mission.

The other guy came running to them and took the ball from Kaka’s hands. “You’re impossible,” he told him, smiling. Oscar noticed he hadn’t the bestest smile but the brunette guy seemed to melt into it. Oscar suddenly felt uncomfortable. “Yo’, kiddo, you play?” he was asking now. And Oscar knew they were probably one or two years older than him, but he felt five years old and lost.

“I think he does,” the brunette, ‘Kaka’, dared, smiling at him. Oscar chuckled.

“Come on, show us,” the long, curly-haired guy asked, passing the ball to his feet. Oscar dropped his empty stray to his side and stood. And maybe he was being forced into it, because you can never say no to seniors, but that afternoon he played football with the high school’s finest, and had no reason to protest.

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay, spill,” Neymar demanded, opening the door to the shower.

David jolted, and covered himself with both hands. “What the hell?!” he yelled, shaking his wet curls off his forehead to look at his back. Neymar was crossing his arms in front of him.

“You know what the hell is going on with Oscar lately?” he asked, seriously.

“I’m naked under here!” he shouted. Paulinho and Ramires repressed their laughter as they left the dressers.

“I know, I’ll use your vulnerability to my advantage, now,” Neymar said, almost grinning. “What’s up with Oscar?”

“How the hell would I know? He’s your bestie, not mine,” David deflected.

“He’s been spending more time with you than me lately—

“He’s been spending time with football’s field grass than with any of us, to be honest—

“My point is--,” Neymar cut, and David pressed his lips. “You know something I don’t.” David shut his mouth closed as the water still washed him over. Neymar’s greenish eyes were piercing, fierce, and he wasn’t the strongest man to lie. The lord was definitely testing him. “David Luiz!” Neymar called, and David shook awake.

“I’m thinking!”

“About what?!”

“About—a lie, ah crap,” he sighed, turning around to close the water tap. He walked out of the shower and grabbed his towel. Neymar stepping at his feet behind him. He rolled the tower over his hips and sat. Neymar was now looking at him like a kicked puppy, and seriously, this was just cruel. The _cruelest_. He need to smack Oscar’s head repeatedly for making him go through this. “The thing is--,”

“He thinks I’m stupid, doesn’t he?” Neymar interrupted him. “He’s tired of teaching me stuff, and thinks I’m an idiot, because I play football and pay no attention to class and I bet he makes fun of me with you,” he thought out loud, sadly. David was frowning at him.

“What? No!” he yelled, gaining Neymar’s attention. “No, no, no. He makes fun of your ever-changing hairstyles and the way you wear your pants, not your school grades, what? You think your best friend is a first-class dick, or something?” David asked, making a face. Neymar sighed, sad, and sat next to him.

“Then what is it?” he whispered, like a child who didn’t understand much. David bit his lip and looked at the wet floor.

“He…is, uhm,” _‘cooking meth?’ ‘Batman?’ David, you can do better, c’mon_. He bit his lip harder and as if some miracle, Oscar walked in, ball on his hand and smile on his face. “—playing football!” he shouted, standing and pointing at Oscar while looking at Neymar on the bench. Then he noticed. “Wait, _what_?” he asked, turning to Oscar, who was looking at him, eyes open widely.

Behind him came no others than Kaka and Ronaldinho, and David swallowed hard. “Hey, kiddos,” Ronaldinho said, side-passing Oscar’s still body. He fist-bumped Neymar and walked to the sink. Neymar’s face was permanently stunned

“David, are you okay?” Kaka asked, with that warm smile of his.

“He—he was playing, _with you_?” David asked him, shocked, smile slowly growing on his face. Neymar stood behind David, smiling widely.

“Yeah, he’s been playing with us for these past days, and he’s amazing,” Kaka admitted, punching Oscar lightly on the shoulder. Oscar fought the urge to chuckle. “You should put him in your team,” he told them, before going to wash himself and leaving them.

“Well, well,” David said, once Kaka was gone. Behind him, Neymar was crossing his arms. Oscar rolled his eyes.

“So, okay, I played football, that’s not illegal now, is it?” Oscar said, defensive, walking past between them to wash his hands.

“You know what this means, right?” Neymar asked, behind him. Oscar was drying his face his with a towel before looking at Neymar again. “You can’t say no to warm-ups tomorrow. No more hiding from Felipao,” he told him, grinning. And Oscar cursed under his breath, because there was no way he’d say no to Neymar and David Luiz at the same time.

 

* * *

 

 

Thursday’s team warm-ups were short of a religion to their course. Everyone that cared about football or any player of the team knew and got crazy about them. So when Oscar walked into the field and found it crowded, he wasn’t surprised at all. He pushed the anxiety away when he saw Thiago waving at him.

“I’m glad you came,” he said, the blue armband looking nice on him.

“Yeah, me too. I guess,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. Thiago put his hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Kaka said you were amazing when you played with them, and that means hella’ lot,” Thiago told him, chuckling at the end. “You’ve got nothing to be afraid of. We’re all your friends here,” he assured, nodding at him as if asking, and Oscar once again understood why Thiago was captain.

“Okay, sure,” Oscar felt, honestly.

Felipao arrived shortly after. One binder under his arm and one whistle. Neymar was tossing the ball to Dani and back and Oscar had been sitting on the grass the whole time, listening to Bernard babble about how much he hoped Scolari’d see him today, and how much he loved football. But Oscar was far too focused on Neymar and the way the ball moved around his feet, on his legs when he stretched, on the glances he shot at him when he noticed Oscar watching.

Game after game went on. And Scolari saw all the people that tried hard, and wrote down things on his papers, but did nothing more than that. Oscar was playing on Neymar’s team, assisting him once or twice, when the man called him. “You, skinny strong legs!” he said, with kindness. Oscar ran to him with the game still on and when he reached him he made the whistle ring. “Gather up!” he yelled to them. “I need five and five,” he explained. Oscar didn’t move as everyone started making their teams up. “You and Ney, I need you on different teams, there’s something I need to see,” he told him and Neymar behind him. They looked at each other, confused, and walked to the center. Felipao placed the ball between them. “Okay, first one to score a goal doesn’t have to buy me a soda,” he instructed, laughing. Neymar smiled at him and then at Oscar. He blew the whistle and Neymar took the ball out of Oscar’s reach, easily. And Oscar got the rules.

“Oh, so that’s how it is?” he asked his life-time friend. Neymar shrugged as he ran backwards, with Oscar pressing hard behind him. Neymar moved quickly, far too quickly, through the field, but

Thiago eventually caught up to him, stopping him. He passed the ball to Marcelo and then to Oscar, and Oscar felt Neymar’s cologne at the back of his shoulder. He stilled his back, making a wall between Neymar and the ball on his feet and ran as he could. But David Luiz came from the side and caught him off-guard, gently passing the ball to Neymar and winking at Oscar as if he held all the secrets. Oscar rolled his eyes and went to run after Neymar again.

It wasn’t until the third time they did the same circuit that Neymar started pressing harder, playing rougher and consequently making Oscar show himself better. William passed Oscar the ball and he drove it through the field classfully, Neymar running faster behind him. He stood defensibly between him and the scoring area and Oscar sought his chance to kick the ball with the tip of his foot, scoring a sick-crazy goal that made everyone in the crowd cheer and clap.

Scolari blew the whistle once more as they all walked to the center. “Well, Ney, it seems we’ve found your perfect 11,” he told Neymar, proudly. Neymar was standing at Oscar’s side, looking at him here and there and then looking back at his coach. “I want you two together,” he said, pointing at them.

“Ah, well, join the club, Coach,” David said, when he reached them. Scolari huffed at him and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“Amazing, amazing,” he muttered as he left the field. Not before telling Thiago to tell everyone when he’ll give the full list of the team members sometime next week.

Not a split second after Scolari left and everyone was raising Oscar on their shoulders and cheering. Neymar watched from a close distance, marveled. His chest closed tightly when they dropped Oscar to the floor and he watched him walk towards him. He'd never seen Oscar so happy before. “Smile, sour-baby. At least he said I’m gonna be your eleven and not the new team’s ten,” Oscar said, in that cocky way he let show to Neymar and Neymar mostly. He raised his eyebrows at Oscar.

“Oh, so you wanna bet you’re better than me?” he joked. “Don’t make me laugh,” and Oscar had dilated eyes and sex hair and Neymar found himself unable to unsee that.

“You upset ‘cause I rocked you at football?” he joked back, pouting.

“More like upset ‘cause you’re not rocking me at something else,” he blatantly flirted, not noticing how.

And Oscar didn’t seem to do so, either, because he started mocking: “I’m pretty sure I rock you at Math, and History and--,” Neymar pushed him lightly as they laughed.

“You’re such a dickhead. I don’t want you to be my eleven,” he told him, fake-ly narrowing his eyes.

“Oh, but who else will take those hideous hair colors you try every now and then?” and Neymar had it. He tackled Oscar to the floor and pressed his fingers to his sides. “No,” Oscar warned with wide eyes and Neymar took his tongue out. He tickled him like when they were ten, knowing every place that made Oscar yell and laugh harder, by this point Neymar wasn’t even sure what people were doing – probably staring, wondering, judging, who knows, he didn’t care ‘cause his best friend was laughing and playing football with him and he hadn’t know how much he’d missed that. “I’m gonna kick you in the head!” Oscar shouted. “Stop it, or I’ll leave the team!” and Neymar stopped abruptly.

“No, no, okay,” he opened his hands at Oscar, who was panting from all the laughing. He sat up straight and looked at Neymar. “Don’t leave me,” he pleaded, smiling. And Oscar’s face changed entirely, all of the sudden.

“I—uh, gotta go, to, uh shower,” he informed, awkwardly. Walking out, slipping away from him, and Neymar felt uncomfortably bad without Oscar near.

And that night Neymar dreamt he had hot, steamy sex with his best friend in the showers and woke up knowing he was deeply screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I edited some of the grammar and even football mistakes because my head mixed with other stuff I was reading and writing. Lawls.


	4. Operation: Get Them Idiots Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title's pretty self-explanatory. (or The One Where They All Dance 'Ai Se Eu Te Pego')

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, we're almost there. I want everyone to be reminded that I didn't plan this to be a really long story, hence, it all happens very fast...but I hope you like it as much as I did. We're almost getting there! :D  
> ps. I'd apologize for the Parks and Rec bit but I'm not really sorry :P

David rubbed his hands together and cleared his throat. Marcelo and Dani were currently poking each other. "Are you two ever not fighting?" He asked, frowning. Dani slapped the back of Marcelo's hand and turned to look at him.

"Dear golden locks, if Marce and I stop fighting we stop being friends," he said, throwing his arm around Marcelo.

"That's how we roll," he added, and David rolled his eyes.

Thiago chuckled from his seat. "Why did you call us all?" He wondered. David palmed his hands and smile.

"Right, that," he pointed Thiago with his open hand. "As you all know, our dear team's babies —not you, Bernard, stop looking concerned— are totally in love with each other and completely stupid to do anything about it." They all nodded along, agreeing. It'd been two weeks and a half since Oscar's stunning return to the world of football and there hadn't been a single day where those two had been apart from the other. It was obvious to everyone and their mother. David, of course, knew Oscar was well aware of his own feelings but he was still oblivious about Neymar's, David found it both frustrating and funny. "So we ought to do something for them—,"

"Of course we do," Thiago muttered, rolling his eyes. "David, don't you think it's better to stay out of it? Leave them to figure things on their own?" He suggested and David scoffed.

"Please, I wouldn't have confessed myself to you without the help of everyone here," he tried to defend the cause.

"You were drunk out of your skull when you said you liked me," Thiago reminded, with a straight face.

"—Which brings me to my plan," he said, excitedly. "William," he called. The afro-head rose from where it was sitting.

"Hmh?" He muttered.

"You gotta say 'sir, yes, sir," everyone raised one eyebrow. David sighed. "We have to take this seriously, guys. Let's use codenames. From now on you're all gonna address me as Eagle One," he explained, putting his hand on his chest. "Dani's gonna be Been There, Done That," he pointed at Dani, who nodded. "Thiago you'll be Currently Doing That," he said, giving him a high five. "William, you'll be It Happened Once, In A Dream," William didn't say much. "Bernard, you'll be If I Had To Pick A Smurf," Bernard didn't refute. "And Marcelo, you're...Eagle Two," he finished.

"Oh, thank God," he muttered.

"Everyone else are outside helper agents," David added.

"Okay, Eagle One, so what's the plan?" Bernard asked, with a small smile.

"We gotta get Neymar to confess," David expressed. Marcelo raised his hand.

"Why Ney first?" David looked at Dani, who knew Oscar had already realized because David had to pay him for the bet, the rest clueless.

"Because Neymar fell first, and he's not exactly the shy half of that equation," Dani saved, grinning, because he already had his money.

"Right, Oscar's not going to come clean first, he's probably still in the closet, too—,"

"No, no, no. He admitted he had a crush on Kaka the other day—,"

"Well, everybody has a crush on Kaka, that doesn't necessarily makes you gay—,"

"On Ronaldo's book it does—,"

"Who cares about what Ronaldo says?—,"

"Hey, he's a national icon!—,"

"Kaka has way better hair—,"

"Not fair, Ronaldo doesn't even have hair—,"

Thiago whistled loudly. Everyone shut their mouths close. "We're not here to talk about seniors and their hairs, now, are we?" He scolded looking over his shoulders at Dani and Marcelo. "David?"

"Thank you," he said, solemnly. "So, It Happened Once, In A Dream, your birthday's this weekend, there's our opportunity window. Eagle Two and Been There, Done That you have to get Neymar drunk,—"

"David...,"

"No, no, it's all safe. Ney likes to drink, anyway. We'll protect him," he assured. "I'm gonna make sure Oscar goes, even if I have to force him to. And everything else we'll figure out as it comes," he instructed, lastly.

"Okay, uhm, Eagle One," Thiago called.

"Yes?"

"Your plan sucks," he told him, raising both eyebrows. David sighed, and let his arms fall on his sides.

"I know, but you know, at least I mean well," they all did.

 

* * *

 

 

Bruna cut her words mid-sentence, and pressed her lips together, smiling dearly at a Neymar resting against her locker. "Are you listening?" Of course he wasn't. Neymar 'hmm-d' and moved his long, beautiful eye-lashes. Bruna chuckled and turned to see what had her friend so distracted.

She wasn't much surprised when she turned to find skinny-but-gorgeous Oscar Emboaba, kicking a tiny ball up and up with his feet and knees and gracefully catching it with the back of his neck. "I didn't know he played," she frowned, watching.

"He's catching up to it again just now," he explained. "You missed it with all your rehearsals, but he joined the team three weeks ago," Neymar wasn't near taking his sight off him. Oscar was mesmerizing.

Bruna, on the other hand, wasn't near taking her sight of Neymar. She wasn't going to lie she didn't think — or even hoped, they'd someday be something than just friends, but she didn't hold her breath on it. Neymar was funny and caring and beautiful but he never suggested let alone offered anything more than a friendship so she never allowed herself to dream of anything else. So watching him with spinning eyes looking at another boy was the cutest thing she'd seen. She couldn't help but smile. And also, ask: "so what's the plan, Romeo?"

"I don't know. I haven't really read the play," he answered, still not looking at her. Bruna pinched his arm playfully. "Hey!" He yelled, smiling. That called Oscar's attention because he turned for a brief second and looked at the scene before him. He took the ball from the floor and put it inside his bag, leaving as quick as he managed. Neymar was too busy to even notice.

"I'm not talking about my play, silly," she informed. Neymar blinked at her.

"Then what?" He frowned, smile unchanging.

"About you and Oscar," she deadpanned.

"What about me and Oscar?" He crossed his arm.

"What's the plan?" Bruna repeated herself.

"Uh— I don't know, we're training next week and Felipao said he'd give us instructions then and—,"

"What? — Ney, no," she laughed a little. "I mean you, what are you going to do with him?" She cleared. Neymar suddenly changed his position.

"What? With him? Nothing! Why would I— I mean, I don't want to do anything with Oscar. Pfffffffft," he waved his hand too much, faking a nonchalant smile. Bruna arched one long eyebrow. "How did you know?" He gave up, lowering his shoulders.

"You think I didn't notice how you stop and stare whenever he walks by? I'm glad you're done lying to yourself, though," she complied, crossing her arms now.

"You're not mad at me?" Neymar was surprised.

"You're my friend. It's not like you cheated on me, Ney. And I knew you liked boys," she shrugged off. Neymar wanted to give her the tightest hug. "Now, tell me your plan," she demand.

"Agh, there's no such thing. Oscar's not gay," he sighed, sad. Lowering his head. Bruna let her mouth open slightly.

"Are you sure?" She asked, after a while. Neymar pressed his crossed hands tighter around his sides, hugging himself. "Oh, sweetie," she hugged him, all darling and caring.

"It's okay, Bru," he reassured against her hair. "I mean, I'm not sad about it. He's still my best bud, it'll wear off," he said, carefree, but his eyes told an entire different story. Bruna bit her bottom lip and hugged him once more.

 

* * *

 

 

William’s party came by quickly, and to no one’s surprise at all, Oscar said he wasn’t going. “I’m gonna throw you out this window,” David threatened.

“I’ve got a test on Monday, David. This is not up for discussion,” he said, clicking on his laptop’s keyboard.

“You’re playing D&D with Lucas!” he accused, pointing at the screen. “How’s Germany, by the way?” he yelled at the microphone.

“Muito frio!” yelled Oscar’s cousin from the speaker.

“What do you want?” Oscar said, turning.

“For you to stop acting like you’re forty,” David answered, hands on his hips.

“I already wished William a happy birthday, and I already sent him his present,” he explained.

“What? With who?” David was astonished.

“Bernard,” he replied, clicking on his keyboard again.

“Ah, the traitor,” he gasped. David stood there watching Oscar play for ten more minutes until he got frustrated. He walked behind the table and pulled the internet cable, turning the wifi off.

“David!”

“You’re part of the team so you’re coming or so help me God! --,”

“Wait, this is a team thing?” Oscar asked. David nodded slowly, as it was obvious. And Oscar ran to dress up.

 

* * *

 

The party had long since started when Neymar arrived. Fashionably late, obviously. Everyone waved him and clapped his hand and gave him kisses. Outside the football field, this was his other natural habitat. Party, music, booze, and dancing – he was all up for it. Marcelo greeted him from the DJ’s spot and Dani handed him a cup just as he reached their group. “Is everyone here?” was all Neymar asked.

“What do you mean by everyone?” Dani shouted, music was loud.

“You know, the team,” he said, sipping his drink.

“By ‘team’ you mean ‘Oscar’?” he asked, raising one eyebrow. Neymar rolled his eyes as Dani chuckled.

“He’s not here yet, but David said he’s coming!” Neymar waved him as he made his way through the crowd. He reached Bruna and as he gave her a big, wide hug, Dani texted David for red alert.

-o-

“In what part of your evil master plan did Neymar spend the whole damned time with high school’s Meryl Streep over there?” Marcelo asked David once his turn ended.

“First of all: my plan is not evil—

“—nor master,” Thiago supplied. David fought the urge to glare at him.

“And in none part. What the hell is he doing with her? You were supposed to cover Neymar!” David poked Marcelo’s chest with his finger.

“Hey! William asked me to be his DJ for a while. And Dani has him all good and drunk,” he informed.

“This is so gonna end up bad,” Thiago muttered behind them, looking at Neymar through the crowd.

“Where’s Oscar, anyway?” Marcelo frowned.

“He’s playing darts with Hulk and Bernard at the back. I don’t want him seeing Ney all over Bruna and leaving like the big stupid martyr he is,” David explained.

“Okay, why don’t we dance?” Thiago asked.

“Babe, we will, but we gotta figure this out first,” David told him, and Thiago chuckled and moved him to the side.

“No, I mean, all of us, as a team. We start dancing. Ney’s there – without Bruna – so’s Oscar,” he left the idea hanging as it made sense to his teammates.

“Okay, team. Currently Doing That just had the best idea!” he shouted as they all gathered. “Marcelo,” he called. The afro-head turned to him as David only said: “ _Michel Telo_ ” and Marcelo smiled like the devil.

 

It was like a magnet. It was hypnotizing for him. The whole team thought it was the most ridiculously funny thing to watch. As soon as the chords of the song started playing, they all started chanting Neymar's personal anthem. He laughed with them as he started reaching the group. Oscar getting there at the same time as he did. He was laughing so hard it was making his cheeks flush pink and Neymar started doing his classic dance, along with Dani and Marcelo, who knew it far too good.

"Oscar, like this," he showed, and he moved his hips to the side and the other and Oscar was shaking his head with his finger and Neymar pulled him closer, next to him. "C'mon!" and he was now turning to him so Oscar'd follow his steps. He was singing along the words as he moved, and Oscar was looking at him and only him, trying to mimic his moves but failing in the most impossibly cute way Neymar had ever seen. They kept dancing and laughing at how stupid it all was until the song was over and when Oscar breathed out, exhausted, Neymar realized they'd been dancing together, because when he turned around, their team was nowhere to be seen.

"That's weird. Where did everyone go?" Oscar asked him. Neymar only but moved one shoulder, shaking his head, clueless. "I forgot your stupid dance to this song," Oscar commented when there was no point in looking around them anymore. Neymar turned to him, arms open.

"My dance's the best, ex-fucking-cuse you," he joked back. Oscar shook his head and looked the other way. "Let's grab something to drink," he offered and Oscar nodded. When they reached the drinks table, Bruna gave him a knowing look, and winked at him. Oscar caught the sign and looked down at his cup.

"Why don't you go with her?" he asked, casually. Neymar sipped on his drink. Turning for a second to Bruna and then back.

"She's with her girlfriends," he answered, just as casually.

"Yeah, but I bet she'd love to be taken out to dance by golden boy, Neymar Jr," Oscar joked moving his hands around him, motioning greatness.

"Well, you just danced with him, do you feel any special?" Neymar joked, and Oscar gave him this look. This warm, loving look that Neymar could almost swear was all saved for him. But he didn't let himself believe that.

The air around them suddenly changing to a more slow beat. "Uh--," Oscar muttered at the ceiling, once an english ballad started playing.

"You wanna dance?" Neymar asked, naturally, as if it was totally normal for two guy-friends to dance.

Oscar ignored the knot on his throat as he chuckled. "No. I'm pretty sure you don't know how to slow dance, and I don't feel like embarrassing myself tonight," he explained, nodding.

"I'll show you," he tried, again.

"Ney, it's not going to look normal," he reminded.

"Marcelo and Dani are doing it, look," he said, pointing at his left with his chin, where their friends were jokingly trying to dance to a slow beat, laughing as they did. Oscar frowned, it wasn't like them to make a show, and Dani and Marcelo liked each other enough to be friends but they didn't exactly played for that team. It wasn't until he turned and caught David looking at him and then deflecting his sight from when he turned that he realized their team were up to something.

"I can't believe him," he cursed under his breath.

"So? C'mon, sour-baby, stop acting so old," Neymar joked, and offered his hand. Oscar grabbed it and pulled him close. Neymar was shocked.

"I'm leading," Oscar exhaled, grinning. And Neymar didn't protest because he was busy praying his boner to go home.

"Uhm-- yeah, sure," he heard himself stutter. And Oscar drove him through the dance floor like he drove the ball through the field, naturally, as if he was born just to do that. He let go of his hold behind his back and spun him around, laughing. Neymar did a thing with his hand, faking drama and they started joking. Then Oscar'd pull him right back and smile at him and everything would turn heavier and better, and harder -- _boner, please, go the fuck away_ \-- and Neymar sometimes couldn't breathe and sometimes he thought he was dreaming. He leaned his chin on Oscar's shoulder when it all became too dizzy.

"You okay?" Oscar wondered. Neymar hummed and he felt Oscar hugging him tighter. "I'm glad I joined the team," he whispered.

"I'm glad you did," Neymar agreed. Letting go of Oscar to look at his face better. "I really am. Football without you is just not the same," he moved his shoulders, and Oscar smiled at him. "LI wanna go outside," he offered, because suddenly he felt claustrophobic with all the people around him. Oscar followed after him, with his heart on his sleeve, and his throat too. They reached the balcony and Neymar downed his drink.

"I think Kaka and Ronaldinho are a thing," Oscar randomly shared. Neymar turned to him, raising his eyebrows. "Yeah, I don't know. They're kinda cute together, though."

"I don't think Kaka's gay. He's like, super religious, you know," Neymar told him. Oscar shrugged.

"So?" he asked, walking to stand next to Neymar on the balcony's edge. "God is love, isn't he?"

Neymar chuckled. "Okay, sure, next thing I'll see you at Gay parades and stuff, then," he said, biting his lower lip.

"I mean it," he said, seriously, but smiling.

"It's okay, Oscar, you're straight, you're fine--,"

"Who said that?" Oscar interrupted, narrowing his brow. Neymar turned to him, in light speed. Oscar shrugged. "I should've told you sooner, probably,"

"No, wait, you're shitting me," Neymar felt almost insulted, but he wasn't mad. "How do you know?" he questioned.

"Well, I think Kaka's cute--,"

"Everyone think Kaka's cute, that's not enough," Neymar shot back at him. Oscar chuckled at his friend's excitement. Neymar was staring at him deeply, as this was important to him, and Oscar felt awkward again. He swallowed, looked down, and thought of a fast escape plan.

"You know what," Oscar cleared his throat, walking backwards, "I'm gonna go get more to drink--,"

"Wait," Neymar cut, pulling him by his forearm and crashing their mouths together. It was quick, it was sloppy, but it was breathtaking nonetheless. Neymar finished his exhale at his swollen lips and whispered. "How did that feel?" he asked, not opening his eyes.

Amazing. Perfect. Fucking awesome. "A little rushed," Oscar answered, not opening his either.

"Are you disgusted or just shocked?" Neymar searched, rolling his tongue along his lower lip.

"S-shocked," he stuttered.

"Is-- is that all you feel?" he pleaded, opening his eyes now. Oscar never met his, only nodded. And Neymar let his heart sink. "That's-- uhm, cause I'm your friend, that's fine. Hey," he called Oscar, walking past him as he spoke. "We just gotta find you some nice, little perfect guy now," he faked a smile, and seriously, someone should give him an Oscar for this kind of performance -- ha, what a fucking joke. Neymar left without a second glance and Oscar fought the urge to drop to the floor.

" _...but I want you_ ," Oscar whispered for no one to hear.


	5. The Ever Loving End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All good things must come to an end ;)  
> (or the One Where There's A Hickey)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say much things. First, I did it! As short as it is, I finally managed to finish something I started. It was very fun and just great for me to write this thing. I honestly don't expect to stop because there's just never enough of these two!  
> Thanks for all your support and all the love you feel towards these stupid babiessss! ALL HAIL NEYSCAR!

 

 

Neymar crossed the corner and shut the door of the bathroom, cursing aloud. Stupid, so fucking  stupid . He hit the back of his head with the wall behind him as he rested himself on it. He covered his face with his hands and yelled loudly  into them.

Why did he thought  Oscar'd  be into him? Just because you're gay and you're best friend suddenly comes out of the closet doesn't mean he's  gonna  be immediately in love with you. _Stupid,_ Neymar, you're just _stupid_.  

He could only hope now that Oscar wouldn't act weird around him. 

He looked at himself in the mirror and washed himself, pushing his sadness and misery in as he walked out with his perfect  little  fake  smile. 

Once he was out he saw Oscar talking to David, and looking upset as fuck. David looked offended and shocked , and even angry . He pulled Oscar by his forearm and away from the crowd and Neymar saw them no more. He let his head fall, and his smile erased from his face.  

-o-

"Now," David said, letting go of his hold on Oscar. "Repeat the fuck again, what the  _hell _  did you do?" 

"I freaked out," he replied,  defensive ly, high-pitched . David face-palmed. Oscar sat , putting  his hands on his face. "We were talking about Kaka, and then he kissed me." Thiago came in and closed the door as Oscar finished. 

"Oh, good!" He exclaimed. 

"No, it's  _ not _  good because this moron didn't do anything," David said, pointing at Oscar judging-ly . Thiago pressed his lips for a long second and knelt in front of Oscar.

"First time kissing a guy?" Thiago basically read Oscar's mind. He nodded slowly, completely shy. Thiago smiled fondly at him .  "It's okay, then. You, Eagle One," Thiago called David, still kneeling. "He was nervous. Stop being so hard on him, or do I have to remind how you acted when you kissed me?" Oscar chuckled from his chair when David closed his  mouth , afraid . "Look, this isn't un-fixable, Oscar. But you have to understand there's no way Neymar will act first, is all up to you, now," he explained, honestly, hands on Oscar's knees and Oscar swallowed. Thiago was right. Now he had to make the first steps, and that made him extremely anxious. "Is there  _ anywhere _ ,  anything , that you feel completely sure about yourself?" He asked. And when Oscar  w as about  to deny, he remembered. Oscar smiled like the cat that ate the mouse. 

"Yes," he simply answered. 

* * *

 

 

Neymar was walking through the halls to the table with his heart racing and a terrible headache. Two days had passed since the party and he hadn't talked to Oscar at all, but that wasn't the only reason why he was nervous. Today his fate on the high  school's  team was decided for him.  Past week h e'd  taken four different tests and done an ungodly amount of paper work, and he had studied and tried so hard but  h e still  wasn't sure of anything. So he was nervous and shaking. 

He opened the door to the cafeteria and was met with  c heers  and confetti and suddenly he didn't know what  had  been  wrong seconds ago. 

" _Parabens_ _!_ " Hulk shouted, hugging him tightly and raising him from the floor. He let go and everyone followed after and after. 

Thiago showed him the piece of paper that mattered. 

"Congrats, B-!" He called him, with a smile. Neymar rolled his eyes, he expected he  h ad done  more than that , but whatever.  He was still happy.

"Oscar doesn't know, by the way," David said, behind him. "He's at the  f ield , you should go and tell him, you know,  thank  him," he suggested, and Thiago nodded behind him. Neymar thought they were right, awkward as he'd felt he had to say thanks to Oscar.

He took the paper from  Thiago's  hands, smiled at them and ran to the football field . 

 

 

Oscar was kicking the ball up and up in the air, facing Neymar with his back. Neymar cleared his throat and walked towards him. "I think congratulations are in orde r ,"  he said as Oscar picked the ball from the floor. 

"Why so?" Oscar asked, with a smile, waiting for Neymar to reach. 

"You earned a B- grade," Neymar replied, showing him his grade s  report. Oscar opened his eyes widely, but he didn't seem surprised. 

"Congratulations!" he yelled, and Neymar stood in front of him. 

"Nah, it's all thanks to you," he said, honestly. Oscar smiled back, and then shrugged. 

"You  wanna  play?" He offered. Neymar threw his backpack off the field and waited for Oscar to pass him the ball. "What? No, no. You have to take it from me," he instructed, cocky. Neymar swallowed, then settled. He ran to the left and Oscar flinched back, ball attached to his feet. Then Neymar tried for the right and same thing happened. "I'm getting sleepy here," Oscar mocked, faking a snore. Neymar was amused- ly  frustrated, and more than a little bit turned on. He ran towards Oscar roughly and forced the taller man to move forward, away from him. He chased after him for about five minutes, and not even once he touched the ball. It was starting to get more than a little annoying. Thank God they were alone. 

Then, Oscar  lost  his  balance and nearly  fell ,  losing  his hold of the ball, leaving Neymar  to  easily get it. And so he did, but  w hen he  looked back at Oscar he was sucking on his lower lip, slowly, and looking at him in a way  N eymar'd  never seen him before. So Neymar stopped, and Oscar took the ball from him again. "Hey, that's cheating!" He yelled when Oscar was shooting the ball  i nto  the goalie-less nest. Oscar drove the ball to the field again, giving Neymar his back and Neymar sought his chance. He moved in front of the taller man and kicked the ball between his legs. Then he stood his foot between Oscar's legs when he tried to run to grab it, but Oscar tangled his legs with his so they both would fall. "That's such a red, you're unbelievable," Neymar muttered, on top, against his face. And then Oscar flipped them over, he was on top, now. 

"You started it," he whispered, against Neymar's nose. And Neymar was quickly thinking for a  snarky  come back, but Oscar completely shot his brain down when he leaned forward and open- mouthedly  kissed him. It was hard, far more rough than what  N eymar  started  a t  the party. This kiss was thirsty, needy,  crazy . Neymar was startled at first, but when Oscar slid his tongue inside his mouth, like  it  belonged no where  else, he gave into it fully. 

He  moved his left hand to cup the back of Oscar's head, pulling him even closer, deepening the kiss even more.  H e then  realized he was fighting for dominance, and losing, too. Because Oscar had one hand on his hip and one on his chest, casually rubbing his left nipple through the fabric with his thumb. 

Neymar cut the kiss when he gasped and groaned inside his throat as Oscar softly rubbed his knee against his groin. They were left panting against each  other's  swollen lips. Oscar leaned forward into Neymar's neck, and he kissed him slowly, and he sucked a mark right where Neymar's tattoo ended.

The bell rang around them and Oscar smiled at him. Neymar wasn't anything  o ther than  speechless. "I'll see you later, Ney," and Neymar wondered where the hell did shy, poor little Oscar went?

-o- 

They met again later at practice. Neymar looked at Oscar at the halls right before the  dressers'  door and smiled like an idiot. "I saw  Dunga  on the halls earlier, he walked to me and shook my hand. He said he was glad I proved him wrong, and that he hoped I had a great season," Neymar told his best friend, with an amused frown. 

Oscar didn't stop smiling either. "That's great," he said, moving his eye lashes. 

"Are you two idiots moving or what?" Marcelo said, between them. They came back from their little own world and opened space for Marcelo to enter. They followed after to find their marked jerseys, carefully hanging next to the other. Neymar fought against the herd of butterflies eating his stomach alive. Oscar wasn't moving at all, either. 

"You like it, Oscar?"  Scolari  asked, from behind them. They both jolted on their spots a little. 

Oscar looked at it and then at his coach. "It's--," _perfect, everything he ever wanted, the best._ He turned to Neymar and gave him a soul-baring look. "--the way it should be," he sai d, asking him, with a smile. Neymar pressed his lips together, breathing. 

He nodded. He blinked. "Absolutely, yes," he whispered.  Scolari  looked at them looking at each other, and chuckled. 

"Okay, team, let's talk about football," he said, palming his hands. 

-o-

They  tie- in'd  their first game against another high school. But they were practicing almost every day. They were trying hard. And Oscar was completely obsessed with football. 

They  also  kissed a lot. They kissed on the dressers. They kissed during break. They kissed at  Oscar's front door. They kissed in Neymar's bedroom. Oscar always started it, which made Neymar even more amazed, and turned-on --also, whoever said Oscar  Emboaba  was a shy fly was a big fat  lier , he was a fucking devil--

But they weren't addressing the whole situation.  They went out but they weren't dating. Neymar didn't call Oscar his boyfriend in front of his friends but somehow they all knew. And they weren't exactly being very secretive about it, but Oscar hadn't told his mom, so they hadn't made it official. 

As of right now, they were going to play their second game, against school's eternal rival. And Oscar wasn't shaking at all while he was trying to tie his shoes, nope. 

"It's going to be fine," Neymar assured, taking Oscar's fingers off and tying his shoes for him. 

"Thanks," Oscar said, chuckling, with pink cheeks. 

"You know, there's a conversation we need to have," Neymar began. 

"Your timing is poor, Ney," Oscar managed to say right before  Scolari  called them to come out and play. 

-o-

They were on fire. 

David and Thiago were connected like one mind spli t in two bodies. They were a freaking wall. 

One to zero  they were winning, but you can never give into that. You have to give more. You have to give all. 

So when Oscar got the ball he didn't dance around. He ran and he crossed people off, he tricked them, he played. And Neymar tried his hardest not to focus too much on how beautiful he looked just like that, he tried because Oscar was looking at him and was passing him the ball, assisting his very first goal in the season. 

Oscar stood smiling and Neymar ran to him, throwing himself around him, letting himself be lifted. "That was amazing!" he said at his ear. And Neymar winked at him, whispering 'thank you'. 

The first half was off and what felt like seconds after, the second half started. 

Oscar didn't know if it was the team they were against, or that fact that they had tried harder this time. But he felt untam able , like they were unbeatable. He felt strong and amazing. And it showed. 

Because Oscar was running through the field like no other team was there to stop him. He passed the ball to Neymar when he felt too crowded, and someone came from behind him and shoot the ball out through the left corner. 

They all gathered in the  goaling  area. David Luiz pointing to him to stand out of the circle. Neymar walked two small steps behind and kicked the ball, but the goalie pushed it out before it reached David's haired head, or anyone's. Except for Oscar, who had the ball coming his way easily. He took the shortest second to look in front of him, and then the shortest second to shoot it. Light-speed into the nest and if it wasn't for the screaming audience, Oscar would've thought it never happened. 

They all ran to hug him, to tackle him into the floor. Neymar being the first one, and when everyone gave them a little more space Neymar took Oscar's chin and gave him a sloppy kiss, startling him. 

They referee blew the whistle and the game was over. 

David and Thiago ran to shake hands with the other team's players and the rest of the team were laughing and celebrating. Neymar was helping Oscar on his feet. 

"Why did you kiss me in front of everyone?" Oscar asked, not a hint of anger i n his voice. 

Neymar shrugged, nonchalant. "I wanted everyone to know you're taken," Oscar chuckled. 

"That's what I am?" Neymar nodded, biting his lip. 

"I love you," Neymar said, simply, because that was the thing to do. Oscar pulled him from the ten on his shirt, attaching it to the eleven on his chest. He rested his forehead against Neymar's and breathed heavily. 

"I love you, too," he told high school's golden boy, his best friend, his ten, his love. 

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me if I should post the next chapter because feedback is what gives me lifeeeeee ;D


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